A Young female British journalist has been subjected to a horrific sexual assault by hundreds of men while covering the Egyptian elections.

Natasha Smith feared for her life as she was stripped and violently attacked by a mob of ‘animals’ who ‘tossed me around like fresh meat’ in Cairo’s Tahrir Square.

She managed to escape only after putting on a burka and pretending to be the wife of a local man who smuggled her to safety.

Miss Smith, 21, eventually ended up in the British Embassy and has now returned to her family home in Weymouth, Dorset.

The attack happened on Sunday as crowds celebrated the announcement that Mohammed Morsi of the Muslim Brotherhood had won the vote to become Egypt’s first elected president.

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Assaulted: Natasha Smith has written about her horrific ordeal in Tahrir Square on her blog

It capped a tense few weeks when there had been fears of a military coup.
Miss Smith, who is studying for an MA in international journalism at
Falmouth College, Cornwall, was making a documentary on women’s rights.
Her CV says she was working for a ‘multimedia publication’ Fair
Observer, which specialises in international relations.

She is due to begin work next month as a researcher for Channel 4’s documentary series Unreported World.

Hers is
not the first case of an attack on Western female journalists covering
the uprising in Egypt. In February 2011 CBS chief foreign correspondent
Lara Logan was set upon by 200 men in Tahrir Square while covering the
resignation of former president Hosni Mubarak.

US-Egyptian
journalist Mona Eltahawy suffered a brutal sexual and physical assault
inside Cairo’s interior ministry last November, the same month a French
journalist said she had been beaten and sexually assaulted while
covering the protests.

Here, in extracts from her blog, Natasha Smith describes in terrifying detail what happened.

The atmosphere was one of jubilation,
excitement, and happiness as I walked, accompanied by two male
companions for safety, along Kasr El Nil bridge.

Women, children and fathers smiled, waved, and cheered happily at my video camera. Fireworks lit up the sky.

As
I reached the end of the bridge, I noticed the crowd became thicker,
and decided immediately to turn around to avoid Tahrir Square. My
friends and I tried to leave. I tried to put my camera back in my
rucksack.

But in a split second, everything
changed. Suddenly, something shifted. I found myself being dragged from
my male friends, groped all over, with increasing force and aggression. I
screamed. I could see what was happening and I saw that I was powerless
to stop it.

Rammed: Crowds in Cairo's Tahrir Square, a focus point for the Arab Spring, where the attack happened

My friend Callum did everything he
could to hold on to me. But it was no use. Hundreds of men were dragging
me away, kicking and screaming.My camera was snatched from my grasp. My rucksack was torn from my back – it was so crowded that I didn’t even feel it.

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Men began to rip off my clothes. I
was stripped naked. Their insatiable appetite to hurt me heightened.
These men, hundreds of them, had turned from humans to animals.

Hundreds of men pulled my limbs apart
and threw me around. They were scratching and clenching my breasts and
forcing their fingers inside me in every possible way.

So many men. All I could see was
leering faces, more and more faces sneering and jeering as I was tossed
around like fresh meat among starving lions.

Natasha managed to escape after putting on a burka and pretending to be the wife of a local man

A small minority of men, just a
couple at first, tried to protect me and guide me to a tent. The tent
was crushed, its contents scattered all over the ground. I was tossed
around once more, being violated every second.

I was dragged naked across the dirty ground. Men pulled my blonde hair – a beacon of my alien identity.

The men trying to protect me tried to
guide me into another tent. I was able to scramble on to the ground. I
sat with my back against a chair and surveyed the surging mob.

Although a few men tried to form a
human shield around me, offering me rags to cover my bruised body, men
were still able to touch me. There were just too many.

I gazed around at the bared teeth and
raging eyes. I was struggling to breathe. One man lifted a tent pole
and attempted to strike me with it.

At this point, I said aloud to
myself, calmly, over and over: ‘Please God. Please make it stop. Please
God. Please make it stop.’

I’m not religious. But at times of
desperation, we all feel compelled to appeal to some higher power to
save us. It’s human nature.

I began to think: ‘Maybe this is just
it. Maybe this is how I go, how I die. I hope it’s quick. I hope I die
before they rape me.’

I looked up and saw a couple of women in burkas scattered around. They looked at me blankly, then looked away.

After five to ten minutes, my friend
managed to convince people inside a medical tent to form a pathway
through the crowd to guide me into the tent. During transit I was mauled
and invaded.

I reached the tent and saw my friend
Callum. Muslim women surrounded me and frantically tried to cover my
naked body. I fell to the ground and apparently temporarily lost
consciousness.

Mixed: Tahrir Square was a scene of celebration, but also of a horror, as Natasha Smith was assaulted

Brutal: Smith was attacked as thousands celebrated the victory of the Muslim Brotherhood's candidate as the new president

The women told me the attack was
motivated by rumours spread by trouble-making thugs that I was a foreign
spy, following a national advertising campaign warning of the dangers
of foreigners.

But if that was the cause, it was only really used as a pretext, an excuse, to molest and violate a blonde, young Western girl.

The men outside remained thirsty for
blood; their prey had been cruelly snatched from their grasp. They
peered in, so I had to duck down and hide. They attempted to attack the
tent, and those inside began making a barricade out of chairs.

Women were crying and telling me: ‘This is not Egypt! This is not Islam! Please, please do not think this is what Egypt is!’

Accidental leader: Mohammed Morsi waves to the crowd during a presidential campaign rally

I reassured them that I knew that was
the case. This vicious act was not representative of the place I had
come to know and love.

After much heated debate, it was
decided that Callum and I would leave separately to avoid attracting
attention.

I was disguised in a burka and men’s clothes and ordered to
hold the hand of an Egyptian stranger who would pretend to be my
husband.

Attacked: CBS reporter Lara Logan moments before she was assaulted in February 2011

I was terrified but I could see it
was the only way out. He pulled me through the crowds out of the back of
the tent. He told me: ‘Don’t cry. Do not cry. Look normal.’

I was barefoot, dodging broken glass
and debris, trawling through mud and dirt. My inner reserves of strength
kicked in, and I stopped crying and just thought: ‘Keep calm and carry
on.’

The man sat me down by the side of
the road, still ordering me not to cry. Eventually, his friends turned
up, with Callum.

They explained that they couldn’t take us to hospital
since they might be arrested if they were seen with us.

Callum and I went on our way. We
eventually hailed a taxi. Upon reaching a government hospital down town,
we tried to explain the situation.

I was eventually ushered into a small
cubicle. Two men asked: ‘Are you pregnant? Married? A virgin?’ They
seemed displeased by my response of ‘no’.

I was refused examination and treatment. Eventually I decided I’d just have to check for damage myself.

I went to the bathroom and couldn’t
believe the reflection. I was dirty, wounded, with hair like a tramp and
eyes wide with shock.

Finally, I was taken home by my
friends, and put to bed. I didn’t want to tell my family right away, as I
knew it would destroy them.

Yesterday [Monday], I had a proper
examination and darted around sorting things out, spending an eternity
giving a police report.

During the examination, which was
carried out by a woman, I was crying and shaking. To have someone touch
me so soon after the event was terrifying.

Broken and battered: Mona Tahawy was brutally assaulted last year

Later, I couldn’t bear to be around
groups of Egyptian men. And when it got dark, I panicked, and couldn’t
bear to look any man in the eye. I clung to Callum all day.

As we drove around Cairo, I couldn’t
help but think: ‘Of all the people we’ve driven past today, one of them
must have been in that crowd of hundreds last night.’

I am determined to continue with my
documentary at some point. [It] will be fuelled by my passion to help
make people aware of just how serious this issue is, and that it’s not
just a passing news story that briefly gets people’s attention then is
forgotten.

This is a consistent trend and it has to stop. Arab women, Western women – there are so many sufferers.

One of the worst things two nights
ago was that I had never felt so powerless. I had no control and I was
violated. But now I can take control and rebuild my confidence.